Dance Me To The End Of Love
by Eirenei
Summary: Love is a complicated thing. Especially when Hyodou was in love with Tatara, but had to watch him dance with his terminally ill fiancée.


_DANCE ME TO THE END OF LOVE_

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I don't own _Ballroom e Youkoso_ or _Dance me to the end of love_. Both of the works belong to their respective authors. I just had an idea and ran with it, honest!

 ** _Summary:_** Love is a complicated thing. Especially when Hyodou was in love with Tatara, but had to watch him dance with his terminally ill fiancée.

 ** _Shout out:_** My fandom-hopping strikes again. This time into dancing waters. Listened to the song, got my proverbial feet into one of the more unknown fandoms and yeah, I was a goner. Hyodou wanted all the reins so the story abruptly veered off the course. As a character, he is interesting to work with, especially with how much attention he gives to Tatara. So. Some canon happenings here, but not saying which ones. Happy reading.

 ** _Warning:_** AU-verse, off-screen character death, a little bit about leukaemia, **_Hanaoka Shizuka/Fujita Tatara_** and **_Hyodou Kiyoharu/Fujita Tatara._**

* * *

 _The world isn't fair.'_

That was the main thought in Hyodou's brain when he was headed to the hospital, a small basket of fruit held in his hand, while in the other, he was holding a small bouquet of pink and white daffodils with bluebells. It was almost unfair - no, it _was_ unfair - that a world should lose such a brilliant dancer as she.

His partner. His support. His rival. And - however hard that fact was for him to swallow - his co-dancer.

No, not his. Hyodou Kiyoharu and Hanaoka Shizuka had parted their ways long ago. If Hyodou was remembering it right, it had been around the end of high school.

Sighing, he buried his chin lower into the scarf, partially to escape the harsh winter wind and partially so that he would be recognized. Even with that preventive measure deployed, people couldn't help but glance after the tall, lithe stranger walking past them, just to take a glimpse of messy light brown hair and slate gray eyes, so unusual for Japanese.

Hyodou sneezed and barely caught himself from stumbling, murmuring a quick, distracted apology to the nearby passerby. It was a late afternoon, and the snow was white, having been snowed down an hour ago, leaving the surfaces clad in the innocent, cold whiteness once again. Hyodou shuddered. He didn't do well with the cold, but even he couldn't help but think it was an appropriate season, however bitter the connotations were.

Because Shizuka - the beautiful jewel of the ballroom halls, the first ever Japanese winner of the Blackpool Championship and the Oriental Rose, as the media affectionately called her - was terminally ill.

 _Chronic Lymphocitic Leukaemia._ Such an innocent name for such a backstabbing illness. He had known that Shizuka had some trouble – she was too pale, had fevers all too often, had lost weight and more than once, he had been witness to her rows with her co-dancer. _(He should have interfered, but it wasn't his job. A poor consolation to his conscience, no matter how right the reasoning.)_

Sengoku-san had been concerned, but Shizuka was bullheaded enough and convinced him ( _all of them_ ,) that she was well enough to compete in Blackpool. The championship had been a resounding success, and both she and her partner were glowing with pride and happiness on the top of the podium, receiving the standing ovation for their performance.

But the happiness hadn't lasted long. Two weeks after, when they were preparing for the Asian Championship, her partner had found her half unconscious in the toilet, coughing blood and shivering with fever. And this time, despite her protests, he had put his foot down and insisted she went to the hospital.

What they thought were only severe exhaustion and nerves (Shizuka, the overachiever she was also took online classes for kindergarten teacher,) proved to be all but innocent.

Hyodou saw how Sengoku was trying - in his own awkward way - to reassure her partner that he wasn't guilty for the state she was in. But Hyodou still couldn't forget that strong, slender back hunched forward, shaking with the force of repressed sobs, the messy hairstyle reminiscing of a hedgehog who got a little too liberal with hair curler drooping pathetically as the man cried in front of her room. He didn't even change clothes, coming along her in practice pants and thin dark red T-shirt, fearing for the life of his love.

 _His love._

Hyodou's eyebrows furrowed in discontent and his right hand clenched around the bouquet as his own heart jolted in pain.

Fujita Tatara. The man who had gone against all the odds to dance with her, Hyodou's most fierce - and only - rival (he acknowledged), was crying for his fiancée.

Hyodou hurried his steps.

They - Tatara and Shizuka - had announced their engagement when they came back to Japan. Not than anybody knew about it - only the members of the club, Marisa and Hyodou, but otherwise, nobody was the wiser of a modest silver ring with tiny aquamarine set in the middle was an engagement ring. Chinatsu scoffed at the small thing, but Hyodou could detect a small bit of longing and jealously in her tone. The vivacious redhead evolved into a monster on a dance floor, stalking Shizuka's heels in rankings quite persistently when they had the chance of appearing in the same competitions.

But now - now everything was crumbling into pieces, and Hyodou Kiyoharu didn't know whether he ought to be sad or glad for it.

 _'All dancers are selfish.'_ Marisa, his mother once said, and undoubtedly, Hyodou Kiyoharu was the most selfish one of them.

Was it selfish that he was glad that it was her laying on the sick bed and not Tatara?

* * *

With guilt still gnawing at his heart, he stepped into the front lobby and headed toward the information. The insides was calm white color with the accents in deep turquoise, and the receptor, a young woman - younger than him - smiled at him warmly.

"Welcome to the Tokyo General Hospital, sir. What can I do for you?" She smiled a guileless smile, her hair pulled into a small bun.

"I want to visit Hanaoka Shizuka. Which room is she in?"

The young woman blinked. "Hanaoka-san, you say? Just a moment, please." She smiled, and then typed something into the computer. Her face fell when she saw the results.

"I'm sorry, sir. She was placed to an ICU three days ago. If you are not a family, you can't visit her.

Hyodou blinked.

 _'Ah.'_

"I am Hyodou Kiyoharu." For a moment, he blessed Sengoku-san and his stubborn insistence of having the respectable dance partners in pairs listed as next of kin.

The nurse hummed. "May I see your ID, please?" Nodding, Hyodou placed the fruit basket and bouquet on the reception's desk and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. With a single flick, he opened it and showed the nurse his ID.

"Oh." The nurse's eyes widened at the picture, but otherwise, she remained calm, much to Hyodou's relief. He didn't want to be besieged by crazy fangirls, especially not now. He gave the nurse a small nod and pocketed the walled back to where he took it from. The nurse smiled an apologetic smile as she continued typing something into the system. "I apologize for the inconvenience, sir, it's just… we had to deal with some unwelcome visitors and the family strictly prohibited the visits of anyone not on the family members list. Nurse Narukami will lead you there. Please wait for a moment - and here's your visitor's pass. Without it you can't get into ICU, but remember to return it back once you conclude the visit. "

Nodding, Hyodou accepted the pass which he hung around his neck and picked up the basket and bouquet, moving himself to stand against the wall.

Nurse Narukami was a bubbly young woman with a cheery face, very much reminding Hyodou of a hamster for some reason. It may be her cheeks, or maybe it was how energetic she was. Her wheat-colored hair was done in two shoulder-length ponytails, and she had twinkling brown eyes. She walked beside him, chattering incessantly all the while, but for some reason, Hyodou couldn't find her annoying.

Maybe because she was so guileless.

"Oh, so you're another visitor to Shizuka-san!" She beamed at him. "Shizuka-san usually doesn't receive many of the visits, the poor dear." Her face fell down. "Her health dropped down so fast we've feared we had lost her some times. " Hyodou's jaw clenched behind the face mask he had been provided.

"Can she recover?" Hyodou inquired. It was a cruel question, he knew, because not many people especially with cancer like Shizuka's, recovered from the catastrophic drop that happened out of the blue. Usually, if the patient lived five years after being diagnosed with this kind of illness, it was already kind of a victory, because in the five year period, the risk of remission was the highest. But there were also cases, when it was already too late from the get-go.

Nurse Narukami shook her head. "The chances are very, very small." Her voice was positively tiny when they were walking through the corridors, passing from one building into the wing of the other. "Currently, we have her on a targeted therapy with new drugs, but it's more stalling for a time than anything else."

Hyodou closed his eyes.

 _Selfish._

* * *

They came to the room number 104 both far too slowly and too quickly for Hyodou's tastes. The room was small, barely 4 _jo_ squared. It was painted in light accent of aquamarine, with ash white linoleum floor and two simple black chairs at the windows looking into the room.

"This is her room" Nurse Narukami's voice was hushed as they glanced at the scene inside. "Shall I announce – "

"No. That won't be necessary." Hyodou interrupted the woman, his eyes glued at the pair. A woman with messy black hair clad in pale blue hospital kimono was smiling weakly at the young man with hedgehog-like hair and maroon pullover weakly, her dark eyes full of affection as she listened to something the man was telling to her. She was connected to a wireless heart monitor and on her face, there was an oxygen mask, but despite her pallor and obvious weakness she was still so, so radiant.

Hyodou was glad that the corridor was darkened, so that the duo couldn't immediately see him.

Tatara and Shizuka.

He couldn't see Tatara's face, but he didn't need to. Tatara loved Shizuka to almost distraction, and his face became goofy every time he looked at her, like he couldn't believe he got her as his own.

Maybe goofy wasn't the right expression - more like adoration, affection, and outright worship along with awed joy.

And Shizuka responded.

It had taken them time - Tatara was like a puppy following after her, conquering challenge after challenge in order to reach for her hand, at first as her dancing partner and later on partner in life. But when they came together, it was clear to anyone who saw them that there couldn't be more perfect for each other if they tried.

Shizuka laughed at something Tatara said, half-pouting in response. It was like that she was here just to recuperate for a few weeks before being allowed to return home and continue her life.

Hyodou's hands clenched around his purchases.

It wasn't fair.

"Hey. Shall we dance?"

He jerked at the voice, his eyes widening at the absurd proposal. Surely that fool didn't mean to make her dance in such a state - !

He made a move, to open the door and storm in, because what the hell was Tatara even _thinking_ –

-only for his wrist to be grabbed and harshly tugged back, Nurse Narukami shaking her head at him sternly, but with her eyes full of tears.

"Just look." She whispered to him, nudging at his side.

"But – " Hyodou tried to protest.

"No. Fujita-kun asked us to do this." She swallowed harshly, her eyes begging him to not interfere. "Just _watch_."

Exhaling a slow, measured breath, Hyodou looked back into the room. He could always clock the idiot one later.

 _Much_ later.

"Tatara… You know they said I can't dance anymore." Shizuka's voice was, for the first time, weary and broken.

Hyodou saw Tatara shake his head as he reached for her frail body, helping her to sit up. "Don't tell anybody, but I managed to beg the nurses for an exception." His voice was warm and caring. "I missed us dancing together, love. So please."

Shizuka's eyes watered. "Oh, you. What other naughty things have you done behind my back, hmm?" Her smile was shaky, but so, so very beautiful in its pain.

"Ehh... Just one more." Tatara's ears were red with embarrassment. Hyodou couldn't help but smile at the sight. "So. Can we?"

 _'Cute.'_

Even if Tatara gained much of his self-confidence, him being bewildered or embarrassed was still one of Hyodou's favorite expressions.

Mutely, Shizuka nodded and allowed Tatara to relieve her of the oxygen mask. Then , Tatara bent down and got out of the bag beside the chair a pair of warm green and blue slippers. "They are not high heels, but I think nurses would murder me if I dared to smuggle these in." He revealed to Shizuka sheepishly, causing her to laugh once again.

"Henpecked by nurses. What is the world coming to?" She teased back, but still allowed him to gently place the warm, fluffy monstrosities on her feet.

"Yes, I know. Oh, the horrors!" Tatara exclaimed mock-dramatically, prompting Shizuka to giggle with mirth once more. Rising from the chair, he made a textbook bow in askance, smiling. "So, shall we, my lady?"

Shizuka nodded mock solemnly, giving him her all too slender hand. "Of course, my good sir. Lead on."

Gently, Tatara helped her up, supporting her all the way and leading her to an empty space in the room.

Tatara gently hedged her to step on his feet, holding her close to his body in waltz position. It was the first time Hyodou had seen Tatara since that disastrous day. Tatara wasn't any better than Shizuka. He was pale and had eye bags and his clothes didn't hang quite right on him, signaling he had lost a considerable amount of weight. His hair was disheveled, even worse than usual, but his face was free of the stubble, so he looked somewhat passable in his black jeans trousers and maroon pullover. Nobody who had seen them would have thought that this was the dancing dup which had effortlessly dealt with the best and most experienced at Blackpool Championship. If anything, they looked awkward and somewhat strangely vulnerable; clinging to each other as if fearing one of them would vanish at any given moment.

The first strings of song began to trickle in, a strong beat, unusual for such a solemn occasion, causing Shizuka to blink with bewilderment.

"Eh, Tatara?" She asked. "What – "

"You once asked me which song I wanted to dance to at our wedding." Tatara's voice was low and intimate, almost drowned by the melody, but to Hyodou, it was crystal clear. Shizuka nodded, still not knowing what to make out of it.

"Just listen to it, love." Tatara kissed her on the forehead, and for a moment, Hyodou felt a burning jealously.

Slowly, oh so very slowly, they began to move, with Shizuka tilting her head as to find out just what Tatara meant with that enigmatic puzzle of him.

The rhythm was deceptively simple, and-one-and-two, strangely relentless for such a slow song. And then, the singer's voice floated out of the unseen speakers, causing both Hyodou's and Shizuka's eyes to widen with surprise. Shizuka would've stumbled, but Tatara's hand on her waist was sure.

 ** _Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin_**

The singer's voice was calm and low, almost overwhelmed by the accompanying rhythm, but still here, still present, like Tatara, when he became a frame for the most beautiful flower. And indeed, Hyodou reminisced, Shizuka was always at her most beautiful when she danced with Tatara.

 ** _Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in_**

Tatara's eyes gazed into Shizuka's watering ones lovingly as he steadily moved them through the space, both of them looking at each other. Hyodou couldn't help but let his lips quirk in a fond smirk, reminded of Tatara's blunder at the Mikasanomiya Cup. In order for Hyodou to not be disqualified, Sengoku-san had forced Tatara to take Hyodou's place.

Hyodou had managed to arrive just in time to see the entire miserable affair - Tatara stiff as a board, besieged with panic, and he couldn't help but facepalm. Sengoku was an _idiot._

But then, Shizuka said something - Tatara moved and Hyodou's body stiffened as he recognized the steps.

That bastard was playing with _Hyodou's personal variation!_

The variation both Hyodou and Shizuka slaved over for more than half of year and this - this little _brat_ dared to rip it off and what was even worse, get full checks for it!

If Hyodou had been furious before, courtesy of those assholes badmouthing him in the toilet, this was nothing in comparison with the raging inferno he felt now.

 _'How. Dare. **He.'** _

**_Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove_**

The ending was as stupid - if not even more so - as the beginning. Tatara tripped. _Tripped._ Hyodou didn't know whether to cry, laugh or throttle the idiot. (Sengoku-san was exempt, even if he had been a culprit in the entire affair. Hyodou, even if others didn't think so, knew his limits.)

This was even worse when compared with the absolutely impossible presentation they had done as a pair.

Hyodou knew Shizuka. She was an amazing dancer - to the level he had considered her more of a threat, a rival, than a partner.

And yet, in Tatara's hands…

Dancing with Tatara…

She was home.

No. Wrong.

In Shizuka's arms… Tatara was home and Hyodou didn't like it.

But on the other hand… it could be interesting.

(Something to finally relieve his boredom. Always winning was. _So. Dull_.)

Right now, the two didn't dance any fancy variations. Swaying to and fro, together, heartbeat against heartbeat, and Shizuka winding her arms around Tatara's neck, giving him a short peck on his lips.

And Tatara smiled at her, like she was his entire world.

Hyodou knew this was true.

 ** _Dance me to the end of love  
Dance me to the end of love _**

Hyodou heard the muffled sniffling beside him, and a short glance revealed Nurse Narukami crying and furiously wiping her tears as she looked at the dancing pair in the ICU room.

It was both the heartwarming and the most heartbreaking scene ever.

 ** _Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone_**

Shizuka flushed at this verse, gently hitting Tatara on his shoulder, causing him to bark out a small chuckle, and the pair exchanged exasperated, but fond glances. Hyodou didn't know exactly what this verse meant to them but for him, it was when he saw Tatara doing the basics in the pale morning, feet gliding swiftly across the floor, posture straight as he tried, like a newborn foal, to follow Hyodou's steps.

Tatara then was a complete beginner. No muscle conditioning. No knowledge of rhythm. He didn't even know how to move, only stubbornly persisting in doing what he learned in those short hours with Sengoku-san.

If anyone told him that this would be his rival years later, Hyodou would've immediately checked them into the Psychiatric hospital.

Hyodou never told anyone, but he watched Tatara since the very beginning.

At first, it had been boredom.

Then, intrigue, caused by his ire just how such a beginner could almost match his variations.

And of course, having embarrassed Tatara drag him from his strange family of grandmother and father into his room was just a bonus.

But this scene… Hyodou currently observed, he felt it would be locked deep in his heart, never to be revealed to anyone.

Because it was too sacred to be.

 ** _Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon_**

When he found out that he paired with Chinatsu, Hyodou was once again faced with both curiosity and exasperation. Curiosity at how would Tatara deal with that horse-girl, and exasperation because surely Tatara could find someone _less_ difficult to dance with?

Tatara hadn't helped the matters, either, being at a loss with how to deal with fire in human guise that was Chinatsu. Who was the leader, and who was the follower? Who would win and who would break? Hyodou couldn't help but feel a little bit of perverse excitement at the conundrum.

 _"I came here to see the winner."_

 _"I don't know why you are hesitating… **catch her reins already."**_

And Tatara didn't disappoint.

Hyodou's heart thundered when Tatara's expression firmed and the hold became more determined - this time, there wasn't any switching of the positions between the odd pair – and then, there was unity.

So beautifully sensual.

One second. Two beats.

A tiny shard - a glimpse of what it could be.

Even if later on in Tatara's career the reporters and judges sang exultations to Tatara's way of dancing, Hyodou saw it first.

 ** _Show me slowly what I only know the limits of_**

Tatara, humble person as he was, accredited his success to people around him.

Mostly Shizuka - that girl was the one who inadvertently lured him into the world of competitive ballroom dancing and if nothing else, Hyodou would be grateful to her for it.

Because without Shizuka – without Shizuka, there wouldn't be Tatara, and Hyodou's world would be very boring.

He watched the pair swaying gently, Tatara whispering something in her ear.

Did Hyodou ever regret that he let her go? The dancer frowned in contemplation. He did.

And he didn't.

He didn't regret it, because without letting her go, Tatara would have stagnated. Shizuka was an excellent dancer, to the point some judge described her as able to shine over her partner with her dancing ability. (Akagi Gaju had experienced that on his own skin. Hyodou still felt amusement when he remembered that particular episode. Did Akagi really think he could dance with the sun that was Shizuka and not get burned?)

(He did.)

Maybe Hyodou was also guilty for it, being of a similarly high level himself, and even then, Shizuka was gaining on him.

But Tatara - Tatara had appeared out of nowhere, and slowly, but surely, eclipsed them both.

He regretted letting Shizuka go, if only because Tatara's eyes were on her, and not on him, Hyodou. Of course, Tatara respected him as his fellow competitor and later on, rival. However, Hyodou still couldn't take the most coveted, the most important position beside Tatara - of his dancing partner - simply because either of them lacked the proper equipment, so to speak.

For that, he was jealous of Shizuka.

However, even as Tatara's rival, he himself had grown exponentially.

(And if his feelings also did, so what?)

Hyodou looked at Shizuka.

The woman who was cause for this man dancing with her entering his life and making it better, more interesting.

For that, he was, and would continue to be grateful.

 ** _Dance me to the end of love  
Dance me to the end of love _**

_'The dancers live and die by the spectators' gaze.'_ A cold, hard number one truth of the ballroom dancing world. One had to be polished, refined and unique enough to keep the gazes on themselves. The best pairs had trained hard and long, day in and day out to reach that seemingly easy perfection on the gleaming floors in the competition.

But this dance…Hyodou swallowed. It wasn't refined, but it was warm and fragile, both of the participants knowing that they may not have long enough time to be together like this anymore.

He could see the affection flowing between the two of them like a tangible thing. It was nothing flashy or grandiose, but instead, it was quiet and present in every one of their movements - in Tatara's gentle hold of Shizuka's sickness-frail body to himself, in Shizuka wreathing his neck with her arms, in the glance they held between them.

They loved each other and Hyodou bitterly wondered where that left him.

(He loved dancing, but his special person was in love with someone else.)

 ** _Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on_**

Shizuka's sob was small, almost tiny noise, but filled with so much anguish that Hyodou immediately felt guilty for his selfish thoughts a moment ago.

Because for this pair, perfect and so in love, there may not be any wedding in the future.

Hyodou closed his eyes, trying to imagine Shizuka in the wedding attire, all in white, beaming and resplendent.

He tried to imagine Tatara, flushed and awkward and so, so very in love.

He tried to imagine them dancing together, their first dance, to this exact song, so beautiful together and his heart broke anew.

It wasn't fair.

 ** _Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long_**

Tatara nuzzled into Shizuka's hair, and Hyodou caught a glimpse of grimace of grief on his face. Then, Tatara took a deep breath and composed himself anew, even if he did cling to Shizuka a little bit tighter and more desperate than before.

Hyodou had danced with Tatara in those long summer nights, when the moon was the only light shining into studio.

There was no music, aside their movements across the space as they competed in their shadow dancing.

It was their little ritual.

It was always slow dances - the Latin dances were reserved for the harsh light of morning, but in the moonlight, there were graceful sweeps of standard dances, small bickers about the step sequences and bits and bobs about personal lives.

Hyodou always envied Tatara his insight into his partners. Whether it was Akio's little sister, Chinatsu, Shizuka or any of the others, Tatara always managed to dance them to expose their brilliance. Even if Tatara was good in Latin dances, his specialty were slow dances, when his thoughtfulness came to full front.

Hyodou was good, but in comparison with Tatara, he somehow lacked that kind of warmth Tatara possessed in such abundance. In the years following the whirlwind beginning of Tatara's ballroom dancing career, Hyodou had learned just as much from Tatara, as Tatara learned from him, if not more.

And yet, seeing this dance, Hyodou felt humbled and awed yet again.

 ** _We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above_**

Their relationship couldn't be defined as love at first sight. For Tatara, it may have been puppy-love at first sight, but it wasn't that love that kept him dancing for so long. It had taken Tatara growing up as both a dancer and a person to catch Shizuka's interest.

The romance between two was slow, with numerous interruptions by their well-meaning friends. The interplays via Chinatsu and her busty friend were especially amusing. The two suffered through it patiently, even if at the time uncomfortably, persisting through rain and shine.

They became dance partners, even if hesitant at first, then friends and then, so slowly and surely it was almost painful for Hyodou to watch, lovers.

Once, Hyodou caught Sengoku-san bragging that he was responsible for forming of the wonder pair, what with him dragging Tatara to see his first official championship.

(Funnily enough, when Sengoku-san saw Hyodou, he clamped down and demurred that it was all a coincidence. _Honestly.)_

(Nobody believed the man.)

 ** _Dance me to the end of love  
Dance me to the end of love _**

It was hard to see them together, so blissful in their own little world. Of course, Tatara was still working with him - in fact, what made everything even worse, was that Hyodou somehow found himself their main coach, courtesy of Marisa, when the damage on his left leg was too much to dance in competitions anymore.

It was both good and bad. It was good, because he had gotten a worthy rival out of the deal, and both Tatara and Shizuka had been a wonder to work with.

It was bad, because he had to watch Tatara, dancing and not only that, dancing with her.

It was the most sublime torture; combining both of the things he loved the most - dance and Tatara.

And what was the worst, both of them were out of his reach, and yet not.

Yet, they were.

(He often sneaked out into the dance studio at night, stepping where Tatara had stepped, gently swaying through the motions, following the invisible footsteps across the floor, a fool drunk on dancing and love.)

 ** _Dance me to the children who are asking to be born_ **

Shizuka's shoulders trembled and her head was pressed even harder to Tatara's chest, when he was whispering something to her, the sound drowned under the song twining across the room.

But Hyodou could imagine what Tatara was speaking about.

Their children. With Shizuka's cool eyes and Tatara's unmanageable mop of hair. With her elegance but Tatara's beaming smile.

The children that won't come to pass now, because life was carelessly cruel, tearing the two of them apart all too soon for this dream to be realized.

And that, Hyodou realized, hurt.

 ** _Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn_**

Shizuka raised her head, her eyes teary, and Tatara gently pecked her on her forehead, her nose and her both of her cheeks before he dared to lay down the gentlest and longest of the kisses on her lips.

Hyodou now felt like an intruder to something so very sacred he shouldn't have watched it in the first place. It was their time - maybe even their last, and he dared to unintentionally cheapen it with playing a voyeur to their pain.

But for the life of him, he couldn't avert his eyes from the pair still dancing.

One full of health and another doomed to the illness that would eventually take her away from him.

 ** _Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn_**

Hyodou was reminded of one time when they had gone camping.

It was Sengoku's idea, and of course, he had to drag his cute little disciple along.

 _"Only work and no play makes Tatara a dull boy!"_ He had exclaimed.

Hyodou had to raised his eyebrows at Sengoku's brazen proclamation.

 _"Only him?"_

Sengoku snorted, waving Hyodou off dismissively.

 _"You're already a lost case."_

Just for that, Hyodou trashed his plans on shutting himself in the studio that weekend and joined the fun, so to speak.

(Only later on, he found out that Sengoku had done that deliberately. Because where Tatara went, Hyodou followed, and the reverse was also true.)

But they had fun.

Of course, they had been caught in a downpour, both Hyodou and Tatara, but that didn't matter to Hyodou.

It was their time. When they talked.

He almost regretted when the rain let off and they had to continue their walk back to their camp.

(Tatara's tent had been trashed, so Hyodou generously allowed Tatara to room with him, much to the surprise of the others. Hyodou was notoriously protective of his space bubble, and that extended to his tent. So Sengoku and the others almost had a heart attack when Hyodou agreed that Tatara could share his tent with him.)

 ** _Dance me to the end of love_ **

Hyodou would be the first to admit he was socially awkward. His life centered on dancing and he was so damned good at it that it was hard to make friends – he seemed to have a singular gift to make any dancers at the competition he was, into his enemies.

Not that it mattered. They were bunch of idiots, with some exceptions.

So when Sengoku presented him the little rabbit in human guise called Fujita Tatara, he didn't think much of it. Not many people could last in ballroom dancing competitively, and if they did, they more often than not viewed Hyodou as an enemy.

But when Tatara accidentally blasted into the same toilet cubicle when Hyodou was, trying to wrap his leg up so that it would last through the competition - and to look into those soft, gentle brown eyes while they were forced to listen to the competitors badmouth Hyodou –

Hyodou felt something in his chest move.

It was one thing to be badmouthed like usual, but it was completely another when someone badmouthed him in front of Tatara.

He didn't know why - why was the distinction so _important_ , but it was.

Maybe because Tatara didn't look at him with hateful eyes.

Maybe it was because he was Tatara's _senpai._

But whatever it was, Hyodou's heart sank when Tatara slammed the door of the cubicle out and stalked past the two gossip-mongers, not saying anything, but silencing the two bastards anyway.

 _(Ahhh… he wasn't a very good senpai, was he?)_

But in the end, it didn't matter.

Those eyes, even when they had been competing against each other, were still kind, and still warm.

And for Hyodou, that was enough.

(It wasn't, but at least now he had fun dancing against someone who also found dancing fun and not only means to take Hyodou down a few pegs or so.)

 ** _Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin_**

Somehow, Tatara counted him as his friend.

Friend enough to confide in him that he would be asking Shizuka to marry him.

That day had been the _worst._

Of course, Hyodou knew that Tatara was hopelessly in love with her (and she with him9, but to have it confirmed, it still felt like breaking his already bleeding heart even further. He still managed to give Tatara his approval, and wave off his concerns when Tatara frowned and said that Hyodou wasn't himself.

(Of course he wasn't himself. Unrequited love _sucked._ Tatara just unknowingly ground the remains of his hope into dust and Hyodou should be happy-go-lucky? The world didn't work like that.)

Hyodou said he was under weather, and Tatara nodded sympathetically.

(Hyodou wanted to scream with frustration. Tatara was really too oblivious for his own good.)

Not that it stopped Tatara from dragging Hyodou along to choose the ring.

(Dammit, Tatara, _why?_ )

At least Hyodou had been spared from witnessing the actual proposal, so it all evened up.

 ** _Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in_**

And then, the times when Tatara intercepted his falls down the stairs. In one way or another, Hyodou found himself both amazed and grateful that his friend was here. It completely sucked that the only place he was graceful was a ballroom's floor, but anywhere else his clumsiness struck like it was going out of style.

It was their kind of private dance -Tatara walking beside him, keeping a watchful eye on anything that could trip Hyodou up and reacting in time to prevent such occurrences. The first few times, Tatara panicked afterward, only to be confronted with Hyodou's unimpressed sleepy glare.

Later on, the panic had been replaced with long-suffering glances filled with exasperation and affection. This was kind of bad for Hyodou's heart and attention, causing him to be even clumsier than usual. He had been scolded by Sengoku-san numerous times and mocked a fair few too.

Kugimiya was usually torn between needling Hyodou about his strange affliction and wondering just how he had ended with such a clumsy rival. Marisa, however, was the _worst._

All those supplemental balance lessons….Hyodou mentally shivered. His mother knew perfectly well that he didn't need them, but still enforced them… thankfully away from Sengoku and his trope of brats…

(Shizuka just giggled through it, the evil woman she was.)

But even then, the clumsiness - whether intentional or not - was worth it, if he could be touched by Tatara, if only from being prevented to go splat on the ground.

 ** _Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove_**

Hyodou watched the pair in the ICU room dance on, Shizuka's sobs quietening down, both now strangely calm and at peace.

He had seen the pair from their most humble beginnings, disastrous firsts, all the rows and reconciliations, both high and lows in the dancing, evolving into something beautiful, whether they had been clothed in ballroom dresses or trained in comfortable T-shirts and black pants - there was still that current between them, a red thread of love, so to speak, binding them to each other.

 ** _Dance me to the end of love_**

Even now, both of them worn with concerns for each other, and Shizuka being fatally ill, they shone. Maybe now with the glamour, but with that mute, warm shine that was evident between those who truly loved each other.

They smiled at each other, and Hyodou felt small and jealous of the bond between them.

Jealous of Shizuka who had the good luck of getting Tatara as hers.

 ** _Dance me to the end of love_ **

Hyodou inhaled. And then, slowly exhaled. Being jealous so late in the game was petty. Especially when he had been honestly happy for Tatara when he got engaged to Shizuka.

Yes, it may have hurt him ( _love always did_ ), but he'd rather have a happy Tatara than a miserable one.

He, at least, owed them that.

 ** _Dance me to the end of love_**

The singer's plea was calm, resigned and gentle, just like their last few steps, clinging together to each other. Nurse Narukami was crying like there was no tomorrow, sniffling continuously and wiping her eyes again and again.

Hyodou's eyes were dry.

"Please give Hanaoka-san this." He passed both the bouquet and fruit basket to still bawling nurse.

"O-Oh. But why?" The nurse stuttered, blowing discreetly in the handkerchief. "Didn't you come to visit her?"

Hyodou looked back to the pair in the room, seeing Tatara gently taking tired Shizuka back to the bed and placing the oxygen mask over her face.

"I think… they deserve some more time for themselves." He murmured, his eyes glued to the dark-haired young man looking at the woman on the bed.

"Y-Yes. Of course. Shall I tell her you were there?" Nurse Narukami was perceptive, he had to give her that, Hyodou mutely admitted to himself.

"No need. " With that, he turned around and walked away, his mind still on the dance he had witnessed in the ICU room.

* * *

Five days later, Hanaoka Shizuka died.

* * *

"Here. Shizuka-can wished for you to have this." Shizuka's mother daintily dabbled at her eyes when she offered him a simple letter. Nodding mutely, Hyodou accepted it with a bow. "Thank you. And I am sorry for your loss, Hanaoka-san." The man beside her gave him a grave nod. "Thank you for your condolences."

The woman sobbed harder, letting her husband to lead her away, leaving Hyodou once again alone and wondering why did Shizuka write to him.

* * *

 _'Hyodou-kun,_

 _You are probably wondering why I am writing this letter to you. I know that my death is inevitable, no matter Tatara's optimism. Leukaemia in my family is hereditary, and I just had that kind of bad luck have it next. I am sorry for all the trouble I caused all of you - to Sengoku-san, you, and Tatara the most, what with my insistence to compete at the Blackpool, but I honestly knew it was my last chance, even before I've known about my sickness._

 _But what I am sorry about the most is that I took Tatara from you. Yes, I know about your feelings toward him. And before you freak out, no, you weren't obvious. At least not to anyone else. And if you know how I found out - isn't it natural for one who is in love with someone to know when someone else is in love with the same person? Besides, it was kind of cute how you relied on him to stop you from tripping on the stars and everything._

 _However I am not writing you to tease you like so. Instead, I am writing you to ask you something. Please, when I am gone, take care of Tatara. We both know that behind all that stubbornness, there's a heart of glass, and with me not being here anymore, Tatara will break. And as much as I respect Sengoku-san, his methods can be more than a little questionable. But if it's you, I can be at ease._

 _Thank you and good luck with winning his heart,_

 _Hanaoka (Fujita) Shizuka'_


End file.
